


Assured by Affection

by mishas_minions



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Cockles, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Supportive!Misha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 23:57:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6134445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishas_minions/pseuds/mishas_minions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a rough night of shooting, Misha brings Jensen home to his apartment to help him unwind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assured by Affection

Jensen lay flat on his back, staring up at the man dressed as a crossroads demon. His face and clothes were peppered with blood, and a large cut had been painted near his hairline.

He tried his best to stay in character, despite the fact that all of his muscles were sore beyond belief. Being thrown around and slammed against walls wasn't as easy as it looked. Not to mention they were filming on location, and it was one of the coldest nights of the year. Keeping his teeth from chattering was quite the challenge.

"Come on, Dean... you really thought you could beat me? You and Sam are pretty tough when you're together, but when you're alone," he let out a huff, chuckling to himself, "well, that's just pathetic."

Jensen thickly swallowed. When he spoke, a swell of emotion thickened his voice.

"I never asked for this; I never wanted to be alone!"

The demon took another step towards him and hoisted his leg in the air, hovering his foot over the hunter's chest.

"That seems to happen a lot, doesn't it?"

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but the demon cut him off by crushing his heel into his chest. The hunter let out a strangled cry. That's when the director yelled cut, signalling for the makeup artists to flood the room. One of them rushed over to Jensen and poured some fake blood into his mouth, informing him that he'd have to cough it up in a moment. He nodded in agreement, the artists rushing backstage. The man playing the demon adjusted his position, and gave a signal to the director that he was ready.

"Annnd, action!"

He sputtered up the mouthful of warm blood, spraying it all over the demon's shoe.

"How does it feel... being so alone? No mother, no father, no brother... not even your angel friend stuck around," he hissed.

Dean's chin quivered at the thought of everything he'd lost. It was true, he was all alone. Who was left to live for?

"Do it," Dean choked out, voice cracking. "Do it, you coward!"

The demon cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "Hm, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Dean's jaw tightened as he fought back the wall of tears that threatened to break at any given moment.

"As much as I'd like to kill you, I can't. We have plans for you, righteous man." He removed his foot from Dean's chest, and he gasped for breath. The demon bent down and pressed his lips to the shell of his ear, whispering a low, "see you in hell." And with that, he disappeared, leaving Dean with his thoughts.

Jensen staggered to his feet, readying himself for the emotional scene which followed. After what had already been said, not much preparation was needed. He was already at the bank of tears, all he needed was for the director to give him the "go ahead" and he'd let them spill.

Acting on Supernatural was actually kind of therapeutic. Obviously Dean was a very depressed, broken character who had to deal with a lot of shit, but the crying scenes were entirely different. It was like letting all of his emotions out, not as Dean, but as Jensen himself.

The director gave his signal, and Jensen collapsed to his knees, as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. His chest heaved up and down as he attempted to steady his breathing. His glassy eyes darted across the room, a small whimper escaping the back of his throat.

The camera began zooming in, slowly and steadily, until it was directly in front of his face.

He ducked his head, a single tear rolling down his bloody cheek and splashing onto the pavement.

"I need some help," he croaked, "p-please."

The room went so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. After a few beats, a booming voice broke the silence.

"Cut! That's a wrap, great job everyone!"

Even though the scene was over and everyone was buzzing about, Jensen couldn't seem to move. It was hard, making yourself so emotional to the point where you truly do feel broken, then having someone rip you from this other world and expecting you to recover just like that. It wasn't easy; it took time.

When Misha ran over to him, he was almost startled, having forgotten he was even watching the scene. Sometimes he got so into character, he felt as though no one else were watching, even though he knew Misha watched all of his emotional scenes. Jensen questioned this before, but all Misha had said was that he liked being there for him. He knew how hard it was on him, so he always wanted to be on standby to bring as much comfort as possible.

Misha wrapped a thick blanket around him, kneeling down. Jensen quickly swiped away his tears, snapping back into reality.

"Hey... you did really well, I'm proud of you," Misha said, low enough so only he could hear.

He weakly smiled, glancing up at him through wet lashes. "Thanks, Mish."

Misha's eyes scanned the room, insuring no one was listening in before whispering, "I have a surprise for you, but we've gotta get going now."

Jensen had to fight back his smile, affection making his heart swell. He nodded, allowing Misha to help him up. He groaned upon standing, his muscles tightening and contracting with each movement.

"I'm too old for this," Jensen muttered under his breath.

After changing into a sweatshirt and a fresh pair of jeans, he met Misha in the parking lot where Cliff would be driving them home. They silently climbed into the backseat, Cliff glancing at the two men through the rearview mirror.

"How was it on set today without Jared?" Cliff teased, purposely directing his attention towards Jensen.

Jensen rolled his eyes and sunk down into the seat, "emotionally draining."

He was glad they didn't finish as late as usual, which was typically around four in the morning. Tonight he'd get to relax for a few hours and hopefully spend some time with Misha.

"So, Misha, where too?"

Misha met Cliff's gaze, pondering for a moment.

"Could you drop me off at my place first?" Misha asked.

Jensen could tell that Cliff was a little confused by the request, as Jensen's apartment was much closer and he was always dropped off first. He assumed it had something to do with the surprise.

Without question, Cliff started the engine and turned down the gravelly road. Within minutes, they were already back on the highway.

Sitting so close to Misha yet not being able to touch him in the ways he wanted was like torture. He could hear Misha breathing, smell the mintiness of his breath from the gum he'd been chewing. All he wanted was to taste it, the lingering flavour of mint on his tongue. Instead, he settled for scooting over a bit and resting his head on the older man's shoulder, closing his tired eyes. He didn't even have to open them to know that Misha was smiling that gummy smile he adored.

Misha wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close enough so that their arms and legs were touching. Sure, it may have looked a little obvious, but friends could cuddle too... right?

Jensen lay there, head pillowed by Misha's shoulder, listening to the steady drops of rain pattering against the windows. He felt so secure wrapped up in Misha's arms, he almost never wanted to leave. All of this, plus the gentle rhythm of the car made it impossible to stay awake.

They hadn't even gotten halfway by the time Jensen had drifted to sleep.

***

The van pulled up to Misha's apartment around midnight. It was a tall, ten story building that had a modern appearance to it.

Cliff leaned over the diver's seat to get a look at Misha and Jensen who were still side by side. Jensen was now loudly snoring into Misha's ear, but the older man didn't seem to mind. Cliff couldn't help but chuckle to himself at the sight. Jensen's mouth was hanging open and he was more than likely drooling all over the sleeve of Misha's shirt.

"Alright, this is your stop, Misha," Cliff whispered, not wanting to wake Jensen.

"Thanks, and don't worry about driving him home, he's gonna be staying at my place tonight." When Cliff gave him a suggestive look, Misha quickly elaborated on what he'd said, "I mean, look at him, he's exhausted! It's probably best I get him to bed. He can stay in the guest room, it's not a big deal."

"Ah, I see. I hope you have a nice night."

Misha smiled in response, placing a hand on Jensen's shoulder and gently shaking him. "Hey, we're here," he said softly.

Typically, Misha would wake him by pressing kisses along his neck, which he frankly preferred. But, they were in public, so this would have to do for now.

Jensen blinked awake, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. When his bleary vision cleared, he could make out Cliff smirking at him with amusement. His eyes trailed over to see that he was still leaning on Misha's shoulder and he snapped his head up, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Misha helped him out of the car, allowing him to sling an arm around his shoulder for support. He was too drowsy to walk properly, especially upstairs.

By the time they made it into the lobby, Jensen was finally starting to become more aware of his surroundings.

"Where are we going?" He asked, voice thick with sleep.

"To my apartment, remember?"

Jensen nodded dumbly, just wanting to get to bed.

They took the elevator up to the twelfth floor and walked to the end of the hall to room 568, Misha's apartment. He only fumbled with the lock for a few seconds before getting the door open. They shuffled inside, and Misha locked the door behind him.

"Go lay down in my bed, I'll meet you there in a minute," Misha instructed, motioning towards his bedroom. He didn't need to tell Jensen twice, he was more than happy to lie down.

Jensen hadn't know what Misha was up to, upon entering his room he could hear him rustling around, most likely with a plastic bag.

He slipped his shirt over his head and tugged down his jeans, leaving him only in a pair of black boxers. He collapsed onto the mattress, burying his face into the soft pillows. When he inhaled, all he smelt was Misha. The sweet scent of cinnamon; it made him feel at home.

It wasn't long until he heard Misha's quiet footsteps enter the room, making their way over to the bed. The mattress dipped down and Misha crawled in beside him.

"Lay on your stomach," Misha whispered, breath hot against the back of his neck.

Jensen did as told. Once he was correctly positioned, Misha crawled on top of him, pressing wet kisses down his spine. Jensen shivered, the sensation of Misha's breath and chapped lips causing goosebumps to ripple his skin.

He heard the lid of a bottle being popped off, and the sound of a liquid being squirted. His curiosity was definitely peaked.

"You know, if your surprise was sex, it isn't much of a shock to me, considering we do it practically every night."

The bed shook as Misha laughed. It was the kind of laugh he knew caused his eyes and nose to crinkle, and for all of his perfect, white teeth to reveal themselves from beneath his plump, pink lips.

"Here I am trying to do something nice for you and you assume I'm about to stick my dick in you, asshole." Misha playfully punched his shoulder, nuzzling his head into the crook of his neck. He sucked on a patch of skin until it turned red, then stroked the tip of his tongue across the sensitive area. "Ready?" Misha whispered, taking his earlobe between his teeth and gently biting it.

Jensen had no idea what was about to happen, but whatever it was, he wanted it.

"Ya," he breathed, eyes fluttering closed.

Misha began rubbing his hands together, thinning out the liquid. He hovered his hands over his hips, then slowly began tracing his fingertips up until both hands were parallel to each other at the top of his back. He slid them down each side of his spine, massaging all the way down to the lower back and just over his butt. Jensen was then able to make the connection; massage oil. 

Misha had amazing hands. They were soft, but could also be firm when he wanted them too. He hated it when Jensen asked him to tickle his back to help him sleep, mostly because he never returned the favour. Massages especially were not his cup of tea, so he rarely gave them to him, no matter how much he craved them. So this... this felt like actual heaven.

Jensen melted into the touch, letting out a low moan. His muscles had been so sore earlier, Misha definitely knew the perfect timing for massages.

"I figured you'd like this," Misha smirked.

"Best surprise _ever."_

"Better than sex?"

Jensen glanced at him over his shoulder, pretending to be thinking harder than he should be.

"Okay, close second," he joked, flashing him a white toothed smile.

Misha's hands slid up all the way to his neck, over his broad shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze. Jensen could already feel his muscles loosening up. He then felt Misha's hands glide down his arms and to his fingertips. He'd never received a massage like this before. It was probably one of the best he'd ever gotten for that matter.

Misha repeated that process several times, starting at the back and massaging up to his neck and finishing at the end of his arms. By the time he was done, Jensen felt better than he had in years.

"Hold on," Misha said, climbing off of him and rushing into the bathroom. He returned only moments later, a dark, blue towel in hand. Jensen chose not to question what he was doing, he just wanted to stay quiet and let him do whatever he wanted, considering he was nice enough to do it in the first place.

Misha wrapped the towel around him, and to his surprise, it was hot. As if it had been taken straight out of the dryer, except even warmer than that. There was even a bit of steam radiating from it. It felt beyond amazing.

Jensen went limp as Misha tucked it around him, bundling him up like a little burrito. When he was satisfied with his work, he snuggled up next to him.

"How do you feel, Jen?"

He rolled onto his side so he could face him, being careful not to damage his work with the towel.

"Fucking amazing, Mish."

Misha flushed, ducking his head. "I'm glad."

They lay like that for a second, Jensen taking the time to admire the beautiful man beside him. Not only was he perfect on the outside, but also on the inside. He had the most pure heart out of the thousands of people he'd met throughout his life, and he was so lucky to call him his.

"I love you so much," Jensen breathed, cupping his face.

"I love you, too."

Jensen pulled Misha towards him, closing that last little gap between them. Their lips pressed together in a swift motion. Jensen loved the taste of Misha's mouth, it was always minty and sometimes sweet, like candy.

Their lips moved together; against each other. Every kiss they shared always felt like their first. The spark never seemed to die.

Jensen smiled into the kiss, realizing he had everything he'd ever need right there. Misha had always been there for him through thick and thin, and never failed to put a smile on his face, even after the hardest of days.

Misha was his home; where he belonged. And he couldn't be happier.


End file.
